


afire

by sometimesheroesdie



Series: another level of salvation [6]
Category: DARLING In The FRANXX (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angel/Demon, Angel/Demon Relationship, F/M, Greek Mythology References, Lowercase, POV Second Person, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Unhealthy Relationships, bc i’m lazy sorry lol, hirotwo is screwed up wow, takes place in my finite heartbeat universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-02 21:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16795390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sometimesheroesdie/pseuds/sometimesheroesdie
Summary: shoulder blades are a cheap substitute for wings.





	afire

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO MY LOVELY HUMANS i’m so sorry for being missing for Actual Months Or Something. i suck. anyway!!! here’s a little prompt from a friend i’m doing, “compass points and shoulder blades”. i Do Realise how little i’m sticking to the prompt but. you know. because i suck. 
> 
> LOL ok let’s discuss imporTant things now. i’m actually really considering deleting finite heartbeat because it’s,, written kinda poorly, firstly; and secondly, i didn’t plot anything out, so i’m just struggling with the world i’ve just dumped down in the first three chapters and i’ve no idea how to continue with it. i’ll be taking a Long Long time to replot everything after i possibly delete it, but it probably! will turn out! a lot better!! we’ll see how it goes, but we’ll probably have to bid finite heartbeat adieu for now. pay your last respects. 
> 
> that said this scene will probably be in the remastered version of finite lmao let’s see how it goes! meanwhile enjoy it :)
> 
> [ this work has been edited and used in my CAP 2019 portfolio. both versions of this work are entirely my own. ]

you’ve been drinking too much coffee, she speaks, fingers held by your left hand and her touch glazing the scars on your back; no wonder you’re so skinny. you press a kiss to her cotton-candy smile, and it’s just as sweet a pink. you say something like how it’s as dark as your soul, maybe just to hear her laugh. 

how her fingers soothe and sear your skin. the flame of her makes your wounds feel like papercuts streaking up your spine - insignificant yet agonising. oh, how she scars you. you are inexplicably in love with the way she kisses fire on your skin and licks your burns. it’s almost as if prometheus stole fire from the gods and gifted it to her alone, twined blood vessel and flame into one. once, she said, lips gracing your collarbone, that she felt like she didn’t exist. scorching holy adoration onto your throat, she told you of how she wanted to leave on you evidence that she lived. 

you let her, and the words she pressed onto your skin were the most beautiful thing in the world in that moment of fever. the way her teeth wore cracks into your marble skin, how you felt limestone-crumbling beneath her fingers . . . the scars and the burn marks are the only things she’ll be remembered by on this earth, and you are the only person who will know. 

something tells you being her fire-bruised relic is a very bad idea. you kiss her dark eyes shut, and she smiles. sure, maybe she was slitting your wrists to kiss your bone marrow and stain her lips your golden blood but she was the only one who could love your broken bleeding wings, stripped of your blessing. maybe your heart wells with that dark wrongness when her fingers coast over your skin, but it’s flint to your steel, setting your heart afire - the flame of the altar of hestia, the flame of the divine. 

“darling,” she murmurs, “only in death do we part, and then some. i’ll always be with you.” hands gracing your shoulder blades and you remind yourself that this is worship - her fingers slanted in prayer, your body the altar, the offering. stolen kisses and whispered oaths and blood stains, this is worship by the fire-side. 

“yes,” you whisper, sweeter than her candy kiss, hotter than the desert sun scorching overhead, “yes, yes, yes.” 

the thing about yes is that it’s almost always a very bad idea, when it comes to her. she swallows your gasp, cups your cheek in her hand. her lips are fierce. your palms framing her hipbones, she kisses like victory and olive wreaths twining round your wrists, binding the two of you in a final blaze of glory. every cell says it’s wrong but every instinct says yes, that savage human desire. you’ve fallen too far from the angelic, you think, and you think of how fire weakens magnetism and how your compass needles are swinging haywire, saying i love you and we can’t be together in the same breath, kissing and pushing away in the next. 

she sets you alight in gold, that’s all. you don’t know what to do with this wildfire girl than to let her burn you down. 

you touch a hand to her cheek, reverent. her fingers caress your shoulder blades and she smiles into your neck. sharp like compass points, pointing to a very bad idea and pointing home.

**Author's Note:**

> BIG THANK FOR PUTTING UP WITH ME SKSKSKKDKS I HOPE YOU LIKE PLEASE LEAVE KUDOS OR COMMENT OR SOMETHING BUT HAVE A GOOD DAY, REMEMBER TO HYDRATE AND EAT HEALTHY AND SLEEP WELL. I LOVE YALL


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